


A Little Dab’ll Do Ya

by Aylwyyn228



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 05:11:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12403866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aylwyyn228/pseuds/Aylwyyn228
Summary: Bucky frowned. “I know you, don’t I?"Oh, God. Not that kind of day.





	A Little Dab’ll Do Ya

**Author's Note:**

> A thousand words of fluff (and a smidgen of angst). 
> 
> The title comes from the adverts for Brylcreem from the 50s and 60s. I think Bucky would’ve approved of the economy of it.

Steve came awake slow, face pressed into his pillow. One of those mornings where everything felt heavy and warm.

He was glad he’d told Sam not to wait for him for their run. He liked Sam. He’d been a godsend at a point when Steve’d really, really needed one, but Christ, did he like his routine. He was glad Bucky didn’t mind being used as an excuse for a lay in every now and again.

Frankly, the number of times Bucky had used Steve’s poor health to get out of something he didn’t want to do, he reckoned Bucky owed him that.

And a lazy Sunday. With coffee, in bed.

He reached out, without opening his eyes, to draw fingertip patterns across Bucky’s back. Felt the sharp intake of breath, the ruffle of the sheets over his back as Bucky rolled over to face him. 

Steve smiled. “Morning.” 

Bucky was watching him, the faintest line pulling at his forehead. Then he grinned. "Christ, you're pretty. I really lucked out, huh?"

Steve laughed, leaned across to kiss him. "You're not the only one, bud."

He felt Bucky tense up, and pulled back. "You OK?"

"I…" Bucky frowned.

Steve's heart sank a little. He knew that look. Knew it real, real well. But he kept silent, until Bucky sorted out his thoughts and found the words. Sometimes it took him some time.

And if there was anything that could get Bucky riled up, it was anticipating what he was going to say, cutting him off, as numerous impatient shop workers and doctors had found out. Seventy years had not took the stevedore out of him.   

So Steve waited. But he couldn't help searching his face, trying to work out what today's crisis was going to be.

Bucky opened his mouth a couple of times. "I know you, right?"

Oh God. Not that kind of day.

But Bucky was already carrying on, leaning up on his elbow and running his eyes across Steve's face. "I mean, clearly I do. If you'da woken up nexta a stranger I reckon you'da kicked up more of a fuss. But…" 

He reached out, then aborted the motion, as if it wasn't allowed. 

Steve caught his hand, pressed it to his lips. Waited. 

"But I know you... Like really, really know you... Don't I?"

Steve kissed his hand again. "Yeah, you do, Buck."

"Buck." He said it like he was considering it. "I'm not... There's something wrong with me, ain't there?"

"No. You're perfect."

Bucky gave a grin. "That was real smooth, punk. But I reckon it was a lie. For a start, I think at least one of us oughta be a bit more worried about this." He frowned again, the slightest tinge of fear. The way he'd used to look at the doctors which were an almost constant feature of the tenement. "Am I sick?"

"No, Buck. No." Steve squeezed his hand, rubbing his thumb over his wrist. "You get confused sometimes, that's all."

"OK. Well, that’s definitely a euphemism." Bucky sat up properly. Steve followed him, so they were sat cross-legged in front of each other. "I'm not crazy, am I? I kinda feel crazy. This ain't a hospital, is it?"

He looked around, like he was seeing the room for the first time. Over at the window, left open at Bucky's insistence so the voile was billowing in with the wind. At their clothes strewn over the dresser and its chair. At the James Patterson novel on Steve's side and the half-drunk mug of cocoa on Bucky's. 

He met Steve's eye again. "This is home?"

"Yeah, Buck. It's home." 

"So, then, I'm not so nuts? I mean I'm not, you know..." 

"You're not nuts. I promise you. You had an accident."

White lie. But if this was anything like the other times, then Bucky's brain would catch up with him in an hour or so, and there'd be no need to have the conversation. 

And if it wasn't like the other times…. Well, then that probably required a bit more planning anyway. 

"You had an accident and now sometimes your brain gets stuck." 

"Oh." Bucky was biting his lip. He looked so beautiful and so sad, that Steve just wanted to gather him up in his arms. He just wanted to kiss him. 

"Do you want to call someone? Get them to-"

"No," Bucky said quickly. 

"Are you sure? I get it. You've got no reason to trust my word. I could be lying."

"I trust you." He said it without hesitation. Without any doubt.

Steve sighed. "Bucky-"

"I do. I know you, I just don't remember you."

He couldn't help but laugh. "What does that even mean?"

Bucky was grinning back. "Don't knock it, Romeo. I'm pretty sure I got it bad. I'm just guessing, but I don't reckon I'm a trustin kinda guy, so the fact that I don't even know your name and I already wanna follow you round like a lost puppy means I think you're stuck with me." 

"I'm pretty sure in about an hour, you're gonna be switching that round." 

He didn't think it was possible, but Bucky's grin got even wider. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth, just kitten licked across his lip. "Yeah, I definitely got it bad."

"You're not the only o- Bucky!" 

He drew in a sharp breath as Bucky started to trail kisses down his throat. 

"Mmmm. That's me?"

"Yeah, yes, it's you."

"Good." Bucky worked his way back up, nuzzled into the side of his hair. "Cos if it'd been some other guy, I'd've had to-"

He pulled back all of a sudden, frowned at him. "Did you use my shampoo?"

Steve burst out laughing, so hard the muscles in his stomach cramped up, he thought he might be sick. The open indignation on Bucky’s face just made it worse. 

"I can't believe you remember that argument when you don't even know your own name."

"I remember that it's expensive, punk! Jesus, Stevie, you've been stealing my pomade since nineteen thirty-" His face cleared. "Stevie!"

Steve kissed him. "Got it in one, jerk."


End file.
